[rewritten ver. of unscripted]
we don't live in a fairytale.
but she was everything the fairytales failed to mention.
like icarus, he was destined to fly too close to the sun.
and fall. maddeningly. deeply. in love.
- neil still does not die in this...
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INSPIRED BY MR. KEATING'S speech in yesterday's english class, Neil decided to challenge himself to do something new everyday. And today, he decided to search for something that would give him and the others a peek into the past of a man who they now looked up to. His dress shoes clacked against the smoothly polished floor, eyes scanning the spines of old dusty books on the shelves.
It wasn't until he rounded the corner of the Annual section did he not exactly find what he was looking for, but something else worth finding. "Oh. I didn't know you'd be here."
Presley looked up at him with those gray eyes of hers, and when the light caught them, they turned a summer shade of hazel."Aren't you supposed to be at lunch?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows, as if she was trying to decipher why fate decided to be a sadistic bitch and made them meet once again without asking for any of it. Neil, though, was thankful for fate.
"I could say the same to you." A honeyed smile carved its way onto Neil's face as he approached the shelves, looking for Mr. Keating's Annual. He was quite exhilarated to have bumped into Presley once again, half wondering why she'd been sitting on the floor of the library's Annual section flipping through a book covered with dust motes. Then again, Neil figured it wouldn't be far from her character to do so.
"I'm skipping." At Presley's reply, Neil whipped his head to her direction in one swift movement, an unreadable expression on his face.
"Why?" He demanded, his voice raising a little. Presley only shrugged as a response, looking as though she was used to it. Now that he faced her, Neil noticed she looked awfully pale compared to yesterday. He wondered if it was because she had skipped meals, and was dehydrated.
"Now hurry up before your stomach hurts from the releasing of acid." Presley casually said, returning her attention to the Annual in front of her.
"And what about you? Wouldn't the same thing happen to you?" To this, an exasperated sigh escaped Presley's lips.
"Why do you care?" She asked.
"And why do you care?" Neil retorted, as a look of concern replaced the disbelief on his features. "You can't skip your meals." He deadpanned, his voice dropping an octave lower.
Unamused, Presley rolled her eyes, heaving herself up to walk over to where Neil had been standing. "I'm guessing this is what you were looking for." The girl was about to hand him the Annual when she froze, her attention averted to something behind Neil. What took Neil aback was not the fact that she froze in place, but rather the fear in her eyes, although shaded beneath a perfectly crafted expression, it was unmistakable that she was afraid.
Afraid of what exactly?
"Neil Perry . . ." Her voice was low, almost soft as a whisper. In any other situation, Presley saying his full name would've incited a foreign feeling within him, but the tremor in her voice told him that he did not in fact misread her. "I need you to come over here, and stay behind me."
